


Wicked

by TenSpencerRiedPlease



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Blow Jobs, Deepthroating, Face-Fucking, Howard is an ass, I Don't Even Know, I tried really hard on that blowjob ok, I've never done this before, Love/Hate, My First Smut, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Steve and Howard basically love to hate each other, Steve's a fuckin tease, Timeline What Timeline, and hate to love each other, and then sex, and there's teasing also, anyways this was just my attempt at doing the sex thing, be gentle on me - Freeform, because obviously, but it also has lots of sass, but the lovable variety, its mostly got no plot, then it ends basically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-23
Updated: 2016-10-23
Packaged: 2018-08-24 03:49:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8355913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TenSpencerRiedPlease/pseuds/TenSpencerRiedPlease
Summary: “I never lose,” he mumbles more to himself than anyone else.“Well, now you do,” the blonde says. He looks enthused with this, like he fully expected to beat Howard at his own game and he was satisfied that he had.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GoodSourceofFiber](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoodSourceofFiber/gifts).



> Alrighty, as the tags tell you this is the first time I've ever written smut. Ever. And I'm hella asexual of the sex repulsed variety in regards to oral so why I started with a blowjob will be a mystery to us all. But here I am, losing my gay boy blowjob virginity with Howard so. Be gentle on me, I have no practical experience here but I did do like 2 hours of research on dick sucking. I can only imagine what would happen if I died and my family saw my browser history tomorrow. Probably laughing honestly, they're cool with it. 
> 
> So the tags cover most everything but I think there is some implied child abuse to a warning for that. Other than that I think it's ok, if not let me know and I'll add it up here. Also there's some lowkey Maria/Peggy.
> 
> Be gentle. Smut and I are only staring the sexy tango ok.

Howard always wins at poker- _always_ \- it was just a rule of life. He’s a math genius; it’d be embarrassing if he didn’t win against a bunch of morons who thought they were halfway decent with cards. Obviously he was cheating given that card counting wasn’t illegal when he wasn’t at a casino, not that these idiots knew the difference. His only issue was the surprisingly distracting blonde across from him. He could handle the distraction of course, even on his worst day he was smarter than the others at the table, but it didn’t mean that the others didn’t notice him staring at the blonde a little too much.

Maria gives him one of those _looks_ that she got when she knew something he didn’t and he itches to ask her what she thought she knew. She liked to think she knew everything about Howard because they dated for two years but she didn’t know anything about him. Instead of dealing with Maria’s knowing looks he focuses on the blonde with the too red lips currently biting his lower lip and looking up at Howard through his lashes. _Damn_ that was hotter than it should be.

“Honestly Howard, stop drooling. It’s embarrassing for you,” Maria tells him, breaking his current train of thought. He glares at her because the only thing embarrassing about all of this was her pointing out that he was looking anywhere. The snickers that arise out of the others at the table quickly die when Howard turns his glare to them and only then does Maria laugh. He glares at her again but she doesn’t stop because she’s Maria and she got away with too much because she gave good advice. Howard is a bastard, not a fool, he knew a good thing when he saw it and Maria is a good thing. At least in situations that weren’t this one.

“With those eyebrows you have no place to judge,” he says, hitting her where it hurts. And in his defense she _had_ over plucked her eyebrows according to current trends.

“Fuck you, Howard,” she snaps. Her glare is menacing but he’s dealt with worse from investors who thought he was too young to know anything about business. Joke was on them because he ate most of their companies. Strangely, though, his father remained as unimpressed with his son as he always was and that pissed Howard off. He decided a long time ago he wanted nothing to do with children because he knew he was a cold hearted piece of shit just like the old man and he figured he’d save some sorry kid the trouble. That had been half the reason for his and Maria’s split. Their parents expected kids and Howard wanted nothing to do with the little monsters while Maria remained completely indifferent to the whole thing.

Eventually people start folding out of the game, knowing they probably didn’t stand a chance against Howard anyways. Maria remains because she knew Howard’s body language well, and curiously the blonde remains as well, occasionally smirking at Howard like he knew something Howard didn’t. Maybe he should make friends with Maria, looking at him like that. Eventually Maria bows out too and the blonde gives Howard a superior look before laying down a fucking royal flush. For a moment Howard squints at the cards, unable to believe that this guy just _beat_ him but Maria’s bursting into laughter tells him that yes, he just got beat.

Every one else stares too but the blonde only smirks. “You just won twenty thousand dollars,” Howard says in a disbelieving tone.

“There goes the rest of my tuition fees,” the blonde says flippantly, smile still in place. That begged the question of how the hell he managed to buy in but Howard got the impression that this guy was resourceful.

“I never lose,” he mumbles more to himself than anyone else.

“Well, now you do,” the blonde says. He looks enthused with this, like he fully expected to beat Howard at his own game and he was satisfied that he had.

“What’s your major?” Howard asks, figuring this guy had to be some kind of math genius or something, _no one_ beat him at poker. Even his _father_ never beat him at poker.

“Visual arts,” the guy says and his smile basically triples in size when Howard simmers in his own anger at that. “So next time you think art is unnecessary and for stupid people who don’t know how to do _real_ work remember this moment,” the blonde tells him in the same superior tone Howard remembers using when he was asked about the art programs at his university the week before.

“Oh, you got _schooled_ ,” Maria says. She throws back her head and laughs, “I have _got_ to get to know you better,” she says to the blonde and to Howard’s intense surprise she hands the blonde a piece of paper with her number on it, “call me sometime.” Howard can _feel_ the betrayed look on his face as the blonde takes the paper, the money, and Howard’s dignity as he walks out.

“What the hell was _that_?” he asks Maria. He had been under the impression that she hadn’t quite gotten over him and then _this_?

“What? I have better things to do than pine over you,” she tells him, “and he seems fun.”

*

The next time Howard runs into the blonde it’s because he’s been forced into a philosophy course that he _hated_. And worse he was stuck in a group project with a couple of dickweeds that thought this class was actually _useful_. That’s when the blonde shows up, dropping into a seat beside Howard and looking superior all the while. “ _You_ ,” Howard says, glaring at him.

Blondie grins, “me,” he says agreeably. “Alright, so it’s easiest to just split the readings amongst ourselves and then take turns talking. So who wants Foucault?” he asks and he gets no response. “Stark, why don’t _you_ take Foucault,” Blonde says.

“Who the fuck is Foucault?” Howard asks. It wasn’t like he actually paid _attention_ in his class, he doubted the university would make good on their threats to not let him graduate without at least one extra credit outside his degree. Not letting their best and brightest graduate because he didn’t pass some bullshit philosophy course was lunacy.

“Oh, he’s a _really_ important philosopher, you probably wouldn’t understand it anyways so-”

“I’ll do it,” he says because he would be _damned_ if he didn’t understand some twit spouting off a bunch of words that meant nothing.

The blonde smiles wide, “great, so who wants the other stuff?” he asks. The rest of his group members split up the readings easily and the blonde, Steve he learns his name is, sends them all off with instructions to meet back in a week.

Howard was so annoyed by the blonde that when he gets home the first thing he does is locate that likely useless Foucault article to read it and prove Steve wrong.

*

Maria finds Howard staring at his tablet, his eyes glazed over with a notebook beside him to take notes. For all his love of tech he had one hell of a time retaining knowledge if he didn’t write it down. “What are you staring at, Howard?” she asks, throwing herself onto his bed and messing up his notes purposefully. It was a testament to how much he must have hated his assignment that he didn’t immediately glare at her and chew her out for messing up his nonexistent organization system.

“Do you know what the fuck a ‘Foucault’ is?” he asks when the words finally register.

She throws her head back and laughs, “how the hell did you get stuck reading _Foucault_?” she asks. Being in science and engineering she didn’t figure he’d have much contact with a philosopher but apparently she thought wrong.

“You ever read some shit about asylums?” he asks.

“Are you reading _Madness and Civilization_? Sorry soul,” she tells him but she snickers because his pain is currently her entertainment.

“Wait, I’m reading about crazy people? Why the hell are they even important?” Howard asks, incensed.

“Why are you important? Everyone has a history, Foucault just happened to pick insane people and psychiatry to focus on this time. He’s brilliant but my general rule with Foucault is that his work is so much better if anyone but him is explaining it,” she says. That was all she was going to give Howard in the way of help because she was curious to see if he could figure it out. “That doesn’t explain how this got to _you_ though,” she points out.

“That bullshit philosophy course I got told to take. We have to read this asshole’s work for a group project and I can’t even half ass it because that blonde, you know the one, _he’s_ in the group and he thinks I can’t understand Foucault,” Howard says, clearly annoyed with this.

“Consider this Howard- he’s right. Just deal with the fact that humanities are hard and you suck at them, make nice with Steve, then make out with him. Seriously, you know you’re dying to,” Maria sing-songs.

“The only thing I’m dying to do is strangle that little fucker,” Howard snarls.

“Oh yeah Howard, choke the chicken,” she jokes. Howard shoves her unceremoniously out of the bed and he’s completely unrepentant about it too. “See if I help you with Foucault, then,” she tells him as she brushes herself off. She turns and walks towards Howard’s door but he stops her.

“Wait, come back, I don’t even understand what I’m not understanding!” he says.

“Not my problem,” she chirps and she walks out, leaving Howard sputtering behind her. It was good for him, someone telling him no every once and awhile. It fostered growth and he needed it.

*

The sound of someone pounding at the door wakes Steve up, unfortunately it also wakes up his red headed companion and her green eyes narrow into slits. “If you want to kill whoever is at the door go ahead, but you better clean up the damn evidence,” he tells her as he drags himself out of bed.

Whoever was at the door was damn persistent too, the asshole kept knocking until Steve finally pulled the door open with an annoyed, “ _what_?” He finds Howard Stark standing there with red rimmed eyes, a tablet, and one hell of a pissed off expression.

“I am not doing that bullshit Foucault reading,” he says angrily.

“You came here at,” Steve looks at the clock, “five thirty in the fucking morning to tell me you’re too damn stupid to understand Foucault? Go home Howard,” he says, just as annoyed as Howard was.

“No, I am _not_ doing this, switch me-” Howard starts but Natasha cuts him off.

“You best listen to his advice,” Natasha hisses in an icy voice, “because I _will_ carve your eyes out with a melon baller to retain the shape. I could probably get good money for them,” she says in the same cold, frightening tone.

“Fuck you,” Howard snaps to Steve’s intense surprise. He wasn’t so surprised that by the time Howard opened his mouth to continue his line of thought Natasha was pushing him out of the way to jump Howard. The night, or morning he supposed, keeps up with the surprises too because Natasha was holding a goddamn melon baller too. Howard lets out a shriek as the two fall but Natasha is focused on her target, Howard’s face, when several doors open to examine what was happening with all the damn commotion.

Natasha glares at them and one by one the door slowly close until the last man standing gives Steve a skeptical look, “stop brining home assassins, Rogers,” Quill tells him but he shuts the door too. Guy had no room to talk considering people were more convinced that Gamora, his best friend, is an assassin than Nat.

“Call her off, call her off!” Howard screeches, flailing around uselessly.

“Read the Foucault article, leave us be, and then I’ll _consider_ asking her nicely to let you escape with your left eye,” Steve says.

“Fine, I’ll read whatever you want- just get this nut case away from me!” Howard yells. He was being over dramatic of course; Natasha hadn’t even _done_ anything outside of pouncing on him.

“Lovely. Nat, if you could kindly leave an eye so he can actually read that article I’d owe you one,” Steve says casually.

Nat leans forward a little and Howard cringes back as far as he can in a sad attempt at escape, “next time show up at a halfway decent time and don’t act like a jackass,” she tells him before picking herself up and disappearing back into Steve’s room.

“What the _fuck_ was that?” Howard asks him.

“Technically? Assault. But when it’s five thirty in the morning and you come pounding on my door with the intent of making me do your schoolwork for you because you can’t handle the heat of the lowly humanities, I find it very difficult to empathize with you. Give me four more hours of sleep, some coffee, and you a better personality and I _might_ find Natasha’s actions unethical. Now bugger off,” he says, waving his hands at Howard to go away. When Howard doesn’t go anywhere Steve rolls his eyes and steps back inside his dorm, shutting the door and letting Howard process his now being forced into Foucault.

“He gone?” Nat mumbles into the pillow she stole from Steve.

“Probably, yes. Did you _really_ need to jump the guy?” he asks because he actually _did_ find Natasha’s actions unethical even if he still hoped she’d chase Howard down and take an eye and maybe a kidney to sell. He could use the money for charity.

“He wasn’t going to go away otherwise, I figured that’d solve my problem,” she says.

“That’s some really shaky logic,” Steve says.

“Whatever,” she mumbles. Steve seconds that because it’s five thirty in the damn morning and he had better things to do than worry about Howard fucking Stark.

*

Howard shows up to the stupid meeting with his stupid group so he could get a grade in this stupid humanities course that he didn’t even _need_ all to show up one Steve Rogers. He still had no goddamn clue what Foucault was talking about but he had notes and stuff. Probably useless notes but there were things on that paper and Rogers was going to appreciate it, damnit. Everyone gives some report on their reading and Howard drops his notes beside Rogers with a flourish. “There, it’s fucking done,” he says.

Skeptically Rogers picks up the notes. His eyebrow shoots up immediately, “‘some shit about controlling bodies or some other stupid thing,’” he reads out loud, “did you even _look_ at these notes? Whatever. Seems how I knew Stark didn’t have enough brain cells to rub together to actually _do_ the damn reading I took the liberty of doing it myself and making notes. _Here_ is what Foucault was _actually_ saying,” Steve says, pushing his notes at Howard. He reads through them quickly, frowning at the information on morality, religion, control, disability, and institutions.

“Where the hell did you even _get_ this?” he asks. He hadn’t understood a word of what he read and he reread the chapter they were supposed to read like twelve times.

“From the reading,” Rogers quips, “so anyways, seems how Stark is obviously useless…” he goes on and Howard tunes him out, content to just sit there doing nothing because this class didn’t matter anyways. “Stark, _Stark_ ,” Steve snaps, stomping on Howard’s foot.

He jumps and pulls away from the little blonde demon, “ow, what the hell?” he asks, glaring at Steve.

“If we send you the notes can you make a slide show?” he asks.

“Yeah, fine, whatever, keep your feet to yourself,” he mumbles. Slide shows, at least, were easy enough. The rest of his group members were clearly irritated but he didn’t care about them and their stupid project on fucking _asylums_ or something. He still had no clue what the hell Foucault was trying to say.

*

Maria practically shrieks with laughter when Howard tells her about his latest encounter with Steve Rogers. “I don’t know what’s funnier, the fact that you’re too damn science minded to understand the humanities or the fact that you unironically called Steve Rogers a blonde demon like you’re easy to handle yourself. Probably the demon thing,” she decides.

“He is clearly the product of the devil. You don’t understand Maria, he’s _horrible_. I _still_ have no idea what the hell that Foucault guy was getting at,” he says grumpily. He even read that stupid chapter _again_ but he didn’t understand where this fruit was getting the evidence for his claims, but when he said that to Steve he got _the_ most exaggerated eye roll Howard has ever witnessed.

“You don’t believe in God _or_ the devil, Howard,” Maria says, rolling her eyes at him with enough showmanship to sufficiently challenge Steve to an eye-rolling duel.

“Exactly,” Howard says as if that proves his point. Steve Rogers was a pain in his ass and he needed to exit Howard’s life as quickly as he came. He had better things to do than have some small blonde jackass give him lectures on why he should care about useless things. He cared about important things and if Steve Rogers wanted to waste his life in the pursuit of frivolous knowledge that amounted to nothing than that was his issue.

“Honestly, you two are so dramatic. Just suck each other’s dicks and get it over with,” Maria tells him.

He cringes hard at her suggestion, “uh, absolutely not. I want nothing to do with him or his dick or any other body part of his for that matter,” Howard says in offended tone. Maria gives him a skeptical look, like she knows something Howard doesn’t and he resents that. He knew himself better than Maria knew him, obviously, so why she always acted like she was the authority on all things Howard he had no idea.

*

Maria sits tucked under Peggy’s arm, thankful that she understood the situation here. She wasn’t exactly sure what they were doing and Peggy had to know they’d never last given Maria’s background and yet… Whatever. Peggy was patient with Maria, and understanding of how her background meant that their relationship was probably temporary as much as that hurt. She _likes_ Peggy- she’s sharp witted, tough, and unafraid to stand up for what she believed in. in a lot of ways she was like the female version of Howard but minus all the things that annoyed her about Howard. Like his arrogance, superiority complex, and his being completely emotionally stunted. With a father like his she couldn’t really blame him but Howard was completely unwilling to learn how to compensate for his upbringing and it hadn’t ended well for them.

“Do you think they know?” Peggy murmurs in her ear, looking over at Steve and Howard squaring off again, yelling at each other over something that was likely irrelevant.

“No. I’ve tried hinting at Howard but he’s currently oblivious to the fact that he’s aroused, not angry. What about Steve?” she asks, curious to see how the blonde saw the situation. Peggy had dated him for awhile, before she figured out the lesbian thing, so Maria figured she had a good idea how Steve functioned.

“Completely oblivious,” Peggy says, “it’d be almost cute to watch if they weren’t so annoying about their sexual tension. Steve is also under the impression that he hates Howard. Actually, he kind of does, but the sexual tension is still strong. I _do_ hope that Howard is out though, Steve is about as subtle as a plane crash in Central Park.”

“If his father isn’t around he’s mostly fine. But if you think Steve hates Howard you _really_ shouldn’t put him in the same room as his father. There might be blood,” she says. Even she hated Howard’s asshole of a father though he had a strange fondness for her. He still called once a week despite her and Howard breaking up months ago.

Peggy considers Maria’s words, “that might be good entertainment,” she says, smiling.

“Don’t you dare!” Maria tells her, “I am _not_ explaining that to Howard!”

“Maybe you won’t have to. Maybe Howard and Steve will finally get to their damn hate sex,” Peggy points out. Maria could only hope, spending time with Howard was slowly morphing into learning more and more about how terrible he thought Steve was despite the fact that he now went out of his way to run into the guy. Howard’s crush was getting a little embarrassing considering how much he claimed not to care.

“Think it’ll be a one time thing that will end in me never having to hear another rant about Steve’s rants?” she asks hopefully.

“Not a _chance_ ,” Peggy says.

Maria sighs, “well, a girl could hope.”

*

They were arguing about something, as per usual, in Howard’s room while Steve proceeded to roll his eyes with such talent he could be winning Olympic awards for the sport. Howard was fairly certain that his own eye rolls were displaying similar talent but he was more focused on telling Steve off than putting on more of a show. If that was the case Howard happened to know that he could put on a _great_ show and Steve Rogers absolutely couldn’t outdo him there.

“Oh shut _up_ ,” he finally says, rolling his eyes hard enough that he’s fairly certain they rolled all the way back in his skull.

“You’re so god damn dramatic,” Steve snaps.

“Coming from you that’s _rich_. Do you have any idea how dramatic you are, going off on useless tangents every ten minutes?” he asks. Like he _cared_ about this week’s philosophy readings about some crap or another, he cared about the _future_ , about engineering.

“As opposed to your completely relevant tech nonsense? _Please_ ,” Steve says, waving a hand dismissively.

“Luddite piece of shit,” Howard snarls, deeply offended by Steve’s assumption that tech was _nonsense_. Technology was going to change the world, _had_ changed the world, and Howard planned on being more famous than any other inventor in history. He had the talent to back it up too. His inventions were fresh and often involved out of the box thinking- he was going to _shape_ future generations with the things he made.

“Elitist asshole,” Steve snarls back. For a moment they glare at each other, not moving or speaking, before Howard finally speaks.

“With a mouth as big as yours it’s no wonder that you’re single,” he says, eyes narrowed angrily at Steve.

“ _Puhlease_ ,” Steve says, delivering yet another Oscar-winning eye roll, “my mouth is the _last_ reason I’m single because unlike _you_ I know to use it.”

“As _if_ ,” Howard says skeptically, “the best you can do with that is run it.”

“I’m sorry, are you seriously saying that like you don’t run your mouth all the time?” Steve asks.

“It isn’t running my mouth if what I have to say is worth hearing,” Howard says, nose in the air.

“To _who_? And considering _your_ single status clearly running your mouth is all you’re good at,” Steve tells him with far more confidence than he should have.

“Oh fuck you, my oral sex skills are _fine_ ,” he snaps. At least according to his partners, but he wasn’t exactly dumb enough to assume they were all telling the truth given that he was pretty rich. A couple compliments might go a long way, not that that ever happened, but still. Regardless he thought his sex skills were perfectly fine and Maria probably wouldn’t lie to him at this point.

“I doubt that,” Steve says confidently.

“What, like _you’re_ the master at it or something?”

“Deflecting? Really? That’s like psych 101. But if you _must_ know I’m _great_ at oral,” Steve tells him, his nose moving back towards the ceiling.

“Bullshit, prove it,” Howard says petulantly.

Steve squints at him for a moment and it occurs to Howard that that may have been a bit immature but it was out already, he had to work with it now. “Do you think this is some sort of bad porn or like… a cheesy romance novel where I’ll just suck your dick to prove a point?” Steve asks.

Fair point, but Howard wasn’t in the business of looking like a fool. “Are you telling me you _won’t_?” he asks, challenges really. He half hoped Steve wasn’t about to take him up on it given that he hadn’t thought through that _prove it_ comment. How else was Steve supposed to prove his point without Howard’s dick? First hand experience was obviously the best method of determining the truth, except Howard had no experience here, at least not with a guy. Not that it would be that different, he guessed.

For a moment they stare at each other, unsure what to do because they managed to back themselves into a considerably awkward space of argument. Finally Steve shakes his head, “no, no I am _not_ doing this. This is fucking ridiculous,” Steve mumbles, his hands fluttering around as he walks by.

“And all the proof I need,” Howard says in a cocky tone.

“You know what, nope,” Steve says, whirling around and stomping towards Howard. He pushes Howard backwards into the wall behind him and kisses him hard. Howard squeaks in surprise but he wasn’t about to be showed up by the plucky blonde and kissing was something he _knew_ he was good at. So he gave as good as he got, making sure Steve was well aware of what good kissing actually was.

It kind of irritates him that Steve is a good kisser too, pressing into Howard’s space like he belonged there. He doesn’t expect Steve to have soft lips for some reason, nor did he expect a hint of strawberry of all things. The kiss is demanding, almost harsh, and clearly fueled by the anger of Howard’s insults. Steve nips at his bottom lip, catching it between his teeth almost painfully before releasing it and pressing back into Howard’s space, soothing the bite with a soft brush of his lips. The actions were contradictory but so was the person behind them so Howard simply curls the hand he had on Steve’s hip a bit tighter, surprised at how thin he was.

Steve pulls back some and Howard raises an eyebrow, “is this supposed to be proving your point? Because killing has nothing to do with dicks,” he points out.

He gets a squint from Steve, “well you don’t just _jump in_ , you gotta romance it a little, get blood pumping. Who’s the one with bad oral skills here?” he asks, titling his head to the side.

“I don’t to romance,” Howard says honestly.

“Well you do now. Now shut up,” Steve tells him, pressing him back into the wall. Howard lets Steve kiss him again, appreciating the skill. Steve runs his tongue along Howard’s bottom lip so he opens his mouth some, giving Steve the access he wants. Despite the rough start Steve’s kiss is almost gentle, true to his ‘romancing’ angle. Howard slowly gives into it, relaxing a little as Steve’s hands run lightly up and down his sides, easing him into his actions. He pulls back a little, moving to Howard’s jaw instead, nipping at his jaw line a little. “See? Romancing,” Steve whispers in his ear. Cocky little shit. Howard doesn’t get much time to think about it though because Steve moves to his neck, running his tongue over the sensitive skin there before sucking gently.

He groans softly, encouraging Steve to suck a little harder at the sensitive sport. Howard hisses as Steve’s teeth graze the almost certainly bruised skin and Steve laughs softly. His hands move slowly over Howard’s hips, toying with the hem of his shirt before slipping his hands under, brushing his fingers along Howard’s skin. The touch makes him shiver a little unintentionally and Steve snickers at him, “I thought I was bad at this,” he says.

“You have yet to prove your point,” Howard notes. So Steve was a good kisser, and Howard probably has a hickey on his neck, but that didn’t prove that Steve had any skills when it came to oral. It did, however, prove that Steve knew his way around romancing and that Howard was weak. Goddamn body, reacting so easily, _too_ easily. He was half hard already and they hadn’t even _done_ anything.

“Uh huh,” Steve says, smirking at him. Howard couldn’t tell if he wanted to smack that look off Steve’s face or kiss it away but the confusion at least added to the anticipation. The ball was in Steve’s court, sort of always had been, and he had no idea what was going to happen next. Steve presses his lips to Howard’s gently, “you’ll see,” he murmurs against Howard’s lips. Steve kisses him again, nipping at his bottom lip as his finger tips dragged slowly over the sensitive skin of Howard’s lower stomach. Howard shivers again as Steve toys with the button to his jeans though he doesn’t do more than that. His hand travels down further, fingers barely brushing over Howard’s dick. He feels his breath hitch but Steve’s fingers continue down, lightly travelling over his thigh.

Steve looks up at him through thick lashes, playing coy. It’s a good look on him with his too-red lips looking kiss-swollen at the moment. Attraction to men wasn’t exactly new to Howard, he figured that out a long time ago, but usually he preferred women. Steve Rogers, however, was a damn itch he couldn’t seem to scratch enough. Something about the blonde was drawing though right now the slight smile on his lips as he looked up at Howard was pretty easy to pinpoint as the source of attraction. “Like what you see?” Steve asks in a low voice, lips tilting up just a bit more.

“Ehh,” Howard lies, pretending to be indifferent. Steve’s hand moves back up his thigh and Howard parts his legs a little, hoping Steve was headed where he thought he was. “Shit,” he swears as Steve cups him through his jeans. He throws his head back a little, bouncing it off the wall, “ouch,” he mumbles more to himself than Steve.

“Well, at least I know you like what you feel,” Steve says, grinning wide. Asshole had _perfect_ teeth. “But if you could remain conscious so I can prove my point I’d grateful. You aren’t about to get a repeat performance.”

“Cheeky asshole,” Howard grits out as Steve adjusts his grip a little. Steve just smirks at him, knowing he had Howard by the balls- literally and figuratively. Howard reaches down, his hand curling over Steve’s, and adjusts his position a little, groaning when Steve adapts to the new position easily.

“Feel good?” Steve asks, his voice breathy. Howard feels somewhat vindicated that this was affecting Steve too.

“Yeah, s- s’good,” Howard says, _whines_ really. Usually he wasn’t so affected by this kind of thing but there was something about Steve and his long eyelashes and confident smile at Howard’s words that was extra arousing.

“Good,” Steve murmurs before dropping to his knees. Howard bites his lip hard to keep himself from coming right there because that would be embarrassing and he wasn’t about to have Steve lord it over him for the next forever. Steve eyes Howard’s crotch and he must like what he sees because he licks his lips, eyes flicking up to look at Howard’s face. His attention is on Steve, of course, waiting for his next move. Steve adjusts his position a little as his eyes move slowly down Howard’s body before landing back where they started. He sits there for a moment doing nothing and Howard squirms a little under the scrutiny.

“Relax,” Steve tells him, his hands running up and down Howard’s thighs, kneading at the muscles there. His touch is warm and pleasant so Howard can’t help but follow Steve’s instructions, melting into the rhythmic movement of Steve’s hands. “You are so easy,” Steve teases, lips quirked up. Howard would have had a few choice words for him but Steve chooses then to nuzzle Howard’s crotch so instead of telling Steve off his brain short circuits.

He doesn’t feel much through the material of his jeans but the image is hot enough to earn Steve a moan. He pulls back a little, his hands curling around the back of Howard’s thighs as his tongue flicks out some, licking at Howard’s cock through his jeans. He swears under his breath as Steve nips at the material, teeth grazing Howard’s zipper. Howard reaches out and runs his fingers through Steve’s hair, pushing it away from his face. “You’re gorgeous,” he says without thinking. The bright smile he gets from Steve makes the stupid comment worth it though.

Steve leans forward again, nuzzling back into Howard’s dick, licking and nipping at the jean before catching the button of Howard’s pants in his teeth. He looks up at Howard, who swears again, and releases the button. “You okay?” he asks in a low, sexy tone.

“Get to the fucking point,” Howard tells him, suddenly loosing patience.

“Patience is a virtue, you know,” Steve tells him.

“Patience can fuck off,” he says bluntly. Steve sits back on his heels and raises and eyebrow, “fine, take your time or whatever,” Howard mumbles. Goddamn Steve Rogers, he needed to get rid of his feelings towards this guy.

“That’s what I thought,” Steve tells him, leaning forward and shifting higher on his knees. He brushes his fingers over Howard’s thighs again, taking clear pleasure in teasing Howard as his breath hitched again. Slowly, painfully, Steve reaches for the button of Howard’s jeans and undoing it. Steve’s fingers linger over the zipper of Howard’s jeans but Howard could barely feel the fucking touch through the thick material.

He whines a little as Steve pulls back, “Steve,” he says, pleads actually.

“Yeah?” Steve asks. He licks his lips and looks up at Howard through his eyelashes, obviously happy to be kneeling at Howard’s feet. That was far more attractive than it had a right to be, Steve Rogers kneeling in front of him with his bottom lip between his teeth.

“Please,” he says in place of whatever the hell he was going to say before that. Fuck it; he wanted Steve’s mouth on him, all over him.

His words prompt Steve to release his bottom lip and smile wide, “I got the great Howard Stark to _beg_ and I haven’t gotten to the good stuff. I am _so_ bragging about this later,” he says.

“That wasn’t begging, it was a request,” he says to save himself some dignity, “make me come in three minutes _then_ you’ll have something to brag about,” Howard tells him.

“I’ll take that as a challenge,” Steve says, shuffling closer with enthusiasm. Howard bites his lip and Steve refocuses on the task at hand, reaching out to play with Howard’s zipper for a moment, looking up at Howard as he does it.

“Tease,” Howard chides.

“Teasing’s the best part,” Steve tells him, dragging the zipper down slowly. Goddamn _Steve_. He reaches for the waistband of Howard’s boxers, fingers trailing over the material and the skin above it. Howard all but growls at him but Steve only laughs, his fingers hooking into the material at Howard’s waist and pulling it down slowly. Howard moves away from the wall slightly so Steve had room to maneuver the jeans downward _finally_.

Steve takes his sweet time dragging the fabric over Howard’s cock and ass but finally the cool air hits his sensitive skin. Steve grins up at him, “and here I thought most of your dick was jammed into your personality. I’m pleasantly surprised to be wrong because this will make it all the more fun for me,” he says. Howard expects him to get to the damn point of this whole experience but he doesn’t, instead he kisses the bare skin of Howard’s thighs, nipping at the skin there and pulling back. The cool air from Steve’s breath makes Howard shiver in anticipation. Steve turns his attention to Howard’s other thigh, licking and sucking at the skin, the cool air from his breath hitting the sensitive area.

‘I hope you know how much of an asshole you are,” Howard mumbles at him.

“Aww, and I thought I was gorgeous,” he says, pouting at Howard.

“You are, but you’re also an absolute a _hhhh_ , do that again,” Howard says but Steve pulls away from his cock with a grin. Howard glares at him but it doesn’t do much good.

“You want more?” Steve asks, blinking up at him innocently.

“ _Yes_ ,” Howard grits out, “preferably with you in a less playful more sexy mood.”

Steve looks at his dick and back to him, “oh, the point of the romancing was to get you hot and bothered. I’ve done that,” Steve says cheerily. He reaches out and gently grips Howard’s cock, circling his fingers around the base and stroking almost lazily. Howard shivers hard, moaning at the touch. “Now my goal is to see what happens first, begging or coming. I’m hoping for both,” Steve informs him, eyebrow quirking up.

“Jesus, are you even affected by this?” he asks. He though Steve was earlier but clearly he was a master actor or something because he didn’t look bothered at all now. Steve’s hand twists expertly and Howard’s breath catches for a moment as his back arches, swearing softly.

Steve considers his question and his airy nonchalant mask drops a little as his eyelids droop and his mouth drops open a little, “yeah,” Steve breathes out, “yeah I’m affected by this.” Howard bits his lip and moans at the thought of Steve hard for him. Steve lets out a small moan himself and the sound goes straight to Howard’s dick. “God,” Steve murmurs, “I heard the rumors about your cock but I didn’t believe them. Figured people were exaggerating to stroke your ego and get a little something out of it,” Steve tells him.

“Yeah, well believe it because- _oh_ ,” Howard says, stopping abruptly as Steve licks up his shaft, his tongue swirling over the head.

“I’ve had enough chit chat,” Steve tells him, licking at the head again. Howard moans, reaching out for Steve’s hair again, tangling it in the longish blonde strands. Steve takes him a little deeper, his hand moving in time with his mouth while his tongue catches the underside of his shaft.

He moves a little faster and Howard’s grip gets tighter in Steve’s hair. “Shit, yeah, like that,” he moans as Steve runs his tongue over the slit. Steve shifts his grip on the back of Howard’s thighs and obliges his request, running his tongue back over the slit of Howard’s cock. “ _God_ ,” Howard bites out as Steve sucks, his hips jerking forward accidentally. He stills himself some because he’s been reliably informed that surprise deep throating wasn’t much fun. Steve presses in further though, taking in more of Howard’s cock. He can feel it hit Steve’s throat and he moans, pulling Steve’s hair some.

Steve hums around his dick and Howard’s hips jerk again, “ _shit_ Rogers, give a guy a- _ahh_.” His words cut off as Steve sucks and pulls off a little, tongue flicking out to lick Howard’s slit again.

“You can do it, I’m actually pretty good at it,” Steve tells him. It takes a second for Howard to catch on to what he was saying.

“You sure?” he ask more to be courteous than anything.

“Do it,” Steve tells him, shifting himself a little. Howard releases Steve’s hair and brushes it out of his face a little, carefully pushing it back. Steve leans forward again, licking at Howard’s cock again before taking more in, pulling back up and sucking. Howard moans, fingers griping Steve’s hair again. Steve swallows his back down, one of his hands moving from the back of his thigh to his balls, gently massaging them. His hips jerk as he lets out another groan but Steve takes it well.

He decides to take Steve up on his offer and changes his grip a little. He starts with small thrusts, letting Steve adjust some but Steve presses in further, encouraging Howard to push in more. Howard thrusts in all the way, surprised when Steve took in the whole thing and moaning sharply. He pulls out and pushes back in with no resistance, his cock sliding down Steve’s throat with ease. “Fuck,” he mumbles softly, shifting his grip so both hands were buried in Steve’s hair. Steve moves his other hand from Howard’s balls back to Howard’s thigh to hold on.

With his new grip set he thrusts in harder, his cock sliding down Steve’s throat with almost no resistance. He groans and thrusts in again, faster this time, taking what he needed while Steve gripped his thighs tight, occasionally pressing on them to urge him on. Steve’s expertly twists his tongue and sucks in time with Howard’s thrusts, making it harder to concentrate until his hips start moving more erratically. Steve groans around him and Howard’s mouth drops open in a silent moan as he thrusts into Steve’s mouth again. “I- I’m close,” he warns.

Steve’s hands move from the back of his thighs to his ass, squeezing a little before pushing, encouraging Howard to move faster as Steve bobbed his head to meet Howard’s thrusts. “Oh _fuck_ ,” Howard bites out as he comes, surprised when Steve continues sucking him through it, gently coaxing him through his orgasm until Howard’s breath evens out a little. “Where the fuck did you learn how to do that?” he asks, releasing Steve’s hair.

“Well, when I was a kid I spent a lot of time in the hospital and I got a lot of tubes shoved down my throat. I eventually lost my gag reflex,” Steve tells him cheerily.

“Are you serious?” Howard asks, _really_ hoping that was a bad joke. Steve nods and Howard sighs heavily, “you killed my afterglow, asshole.”

Steve grins, “good,” he says in the same cheery tone as before.

“Get out.”

*

Exams were going to be the goddamn end of Howard. He always hated this time of year because it was so stressful with all his projects due all at once. Thankfully he had a really, _really_ good stress reliever in the form of one Steve Rogers.

Steve perches in his lap, his legs on either side of Howard’s so he was straddling him in his desk chair with his arms wrapped around Howard’s neck. “I swear I don’t know how I did this without you,” he says honestly.

“Well, you _still_ can’t do philosophy without me. You’re going to fail that and for what? Your pride? You already lost that like three times this week alone. Maria was impressed that I got you to beg though, and Peggy gave me a high five. I know that no one really knows that I’m the one your dating but it is nice to be a campus legend due to my stellar sexpertise,” Steve says, grinning.

Howard shakes his head, “you are not a campus legend,” he says.

“Am so. Even the _teachers_ are talking about the rumors- which aren’t actually rumors need I remind you,” Steve tells him. Yeah, okay, so maybe there was one time or ten where Steve got him to beg a _little_ , and there was that time in the lab, and the time in his thesis supervisor’s office, and that time he forgot he invited Quill over and the poor guy got an eyeful. Maybe Steve did actually hold some sort of mythical legendary status.

“It doesn’t bother you does it, the secrecy?” he asks. He knew it put a strain on Maria and Peggy’s relationship even if neither one would admit it. And they claimed he and Steve were stubborn.

“Nah. I get it. I uh… actually I’m kind of counting on the secrecy- I’m not out to my family,” Steve admits with a small shrug.

“Really?” Howard asks, shocked because Steve was what he described as aggressively bisexual. It never occurred to him that Steve wasn’t out.

“Yeah. I mean my mom probably suspects- there’s this guy at home that I was really close with for a long time and- whatever, it doesn’t matter. Point is my father would react about as well as yours and I’m not fond of his bad reactions to anything. So no, I don’t mind that this is a sort of secret relationship even if I really wish it wasn’t. We’ll work it out when we’re ready to,” Steve says softly, ever the perfect boyfriend.

“You’re awesome,” Howard says, running his hands up Steve’s thighs, resting his hands on Steve’s hipbones. He was less thin now that Howard was feeding him regularly and that made him strangely proud of himself.

“So are you. But you know what would make you more awesome? If you admitted that the humanities are important,” Steve says.

Howard groans, “they _aren’t_ , just leave me be.”

“Fine,” Steve says, pulling himself off of Howard’s lap.

“Wait, wait, wait, where are you going?” he asks.

“Somewhere where my humanities major ass is appreciated properly,” Steve says primly, nose in the air.

“Oh come on, you’re doing _visual arts_ , what use is that?” Howard asks.

“Uh, who had to teach who how to properly sketch a design to scale?” Steve asks, lifting an eyebrow in question.

“Fine,” Howard mumbles, “the arts have merits. Happy?” he asks grumpily.

Steve takes a small step closer, biting his lip slowly while his eyes dragged over Howard’s body. “Better,” he says in a low, seductive voice.

Howard wasn’t exactly a moron, he knew exactly what Steve was doing but he can’t but blurt out, “they’re _okay_.”

“Mmm, not quite,” Steve tells him, taking another small step closer. Howard keeps his mouth shut and Steve pouts at him, blinking sadly.

“God, okay, humanities are as good as science. Now come here, I miss you,” he says somewhat grudgingly. He was three fucking feet away, he shouldn’t _miss_ anyone.

Steve squeals in delight, “I knew I could do it,” he says, bounding back over and plopping himself in Howard’s lap. “My next goal is to get you to admit that humanities are _better_ than science,” he says.

Howard laughs, “good fucking luck.”

“You think I can’t do it?” Steve asks, tilting his head to the side. Howard gives him an obvious nod, _clearly_ that was never going to happen. Steve grins at the challenge, “bet you I can. And the last time we made bets I won and you _never_ lose at poker,” he points out.

“Beginners luck,” Howard says.

“Actually I was counting cards, but sure honey, whatever makes you feel better. But I bet you I _can_ get you to admit the obvious fact that humanities are better than science,” he says, clearly under the delusion that he could accomplish that.

“You can try,” Howard says.

Steve leans forward and kisses him softly, pressing Howard back into his chair. It was pleasant, as always, but it sure as hell wasn’t going to get Howard to admit that the _humanities_ were better than _science_. Steve pulls back a little, licking his too-red lips and drawing Howard’s attention there. “I’ll let you fuck me,” he says.

“Humanities are _way_ better than science,” he blurts out and Steve cheers. “Damnit, I am so weak,” he mumbles.

Steve pats his shoulder in show of mock sympathy, “I know. But I love you anyways.” Howard sighs because he loved Steve too, the head over heels kind of love too.

“I’m gunna marry you some day, Steve Rogers,” he says.

“I knew that too,” Steve tells him, grinning. Of course he did.

**Author's Note:**

> For the record I think both the humanities and science have their limitations and merits. That said my humanities major ass was never meant to do the math-y kind of science. Only science of the social variety for me.


End file.
